


Siha

by UnrealRomance



Series: Impressions and Deductions [9]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Thane's Loyalty Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7377820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrealRomance/pseuds/UnrealRomance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thane asks for Shepard's help and she complies. Of course she does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siha

Shepard didn't like to hear that there were children who played in the vents. _'I didn't expect her to.'_

She didn't like knowing that no one tried to stop them in any tangible ways. _'It always seemed so normal to me.'_

She especially didn't like hearing that the ones that survive become small-time criminal couriers and the like.

Her expression cycled from horror to compassion to anger, going from one extreme to another as she listened to Bailey, and then later- Mouse.

There was a spark of irritation in her eye when I revealed my connection to him. _'You used children to spy for you?'_ She asked. I have never felt shame in my choice to use children and the poor to spy. The _Drala'fa_ are ignored, and everywhere. Seeing everything but not seen. For just a moment, I do. And I am surprised.

I am especially surprised when, after sharing a memory of Mouse and choking back tears that I am certain she cannot see in my eyes or hear in my voice, she does not speak harshly. _'You shouldn't blame yourself for what became of Mouse.'_ She told me. _'Taking responsibility is one thing, but taking blame for someone else's life is like...like being godly. You assume you must have some kind of control and therefore belittle them and their choices.'_

My response was inadequate. As was my response to Bailey. He expressed genuine concern for my son, not to gain leverage or favor from Shepard or myself- but because, I sense he is a father himself and he approves of my actions.

He does not know what I have done, he could not. But by virtue of attempting to fix my mistakes, he decided I was worth helping.

I was overcome with a strange emotion I didn't recognize, something hot and sharp and clinging to the back of my throat. I responded with something simple, the words didn't matter to me as much moving. I wanted to be gone.

I realized Shepard withheld information, and asked why. She seemed quite ready to be upfront with anyone and everyone.

She responded with the simplest, most innocent answer. _'He's a cop. Cops get involved, they sniff out the leads and they...kill people sometimes.'_

Her eyes said very much to me if I chose to look at them.

Speaking to Bailey, and Mouse, I knew she despised the Citadel in all its deceptive prosperity. She hated the need for people like her, people like Bailey just to keep things from falling into chaos. Hated that children weren't cared for simply because they were helpless.

When I first mentioned the task of finding my son, her body language changed.

She walked into the room with concern and compassion, asking me if something was wrong. When I expressed discomfort and got up to pace to the weapons rack in my room, she was more attentive. Leaning toward me, eyes raking over my face. Worried.

When I told her I had a family once, she wasn't quite surprised. Simply curious.

I told her about my neglect of my wife, her murder, and then the altogether complete abandonment of my son. Shepard was interested, wanted to listen before- and then she seemed rapt but reluctant.

I realized her reluctance had more to do with how I felt about talking about it than anything else and felt less surprised than I should have. I know her too well by now.

She sighed and told me: _'It's no wonder. You had no parental experience, though...I can't really picture you as the type to stay away for no reason. You strike me more as the overprotective, stalker-y father type.'_ She was attempting to joke, to cut the tension, but it was an honest assertion.

She thought better of me, and it stuck a knife through my heart. I accepted the criticism for what it was and tried not to notice the allowance she made for me. She is compassionate, she makes allowances for everyone.

I told her that Kolyat had become disconnected, and then had to explain what that meant.

That is when her body language changed.

All of a sudden she was no longer Jane Shepard, a friend listening to my woes.

She was Commander Shepard and she sensed impending danger to someone innocent.

Even telling her he was nearly an adult, she did not relent in her aggressive posture. It is the same pose she takes when standing before an enemy to protect someone in danger. Not quite promising violence but suggesting it.

That was the first indication I had that she was something more. More than what I had thought her to be. I hadn't quite taken close notice of it before then, so deeply mired in battle-sleep that the world around me was too sharp to take notice of more than necessary to survive and to kill.

We found Kelham and Shepard only had to show her face and draw her pistol. _'Spectres do what we want and the Council pays us. I could shoot you and hack your omni-tool. You're only alive as a courtesy to Bailey. He insisted I not kill you.'_

The man gave up his information quickly and easily, and Shepard left him to Bailey, sending him a look of disgust and censuring him. _'If he tries to have someone else killed, bring him in. I don't care how much he pays or how racist the person, that's your_ job _.'_

Bailey was contrite, but I had a very good feeling he would do as he liked. He sees Shepard as everyone else does, as I used to.

Innocent, unaware of real hardship, too forgiving. But they are wrong. _I_ was wrong.

Shepard is a woman who has seen too much, and decided to detract from the darkness rather than add to it. She is... _more_.

When we found Joram Talid, and I followed as she swept through the upper catwalks, I expected... I did not expect Kolyat's actions.

I thought perhaps he'd snipe from afar or get up close and personal, use a blade or some small pistol he could conceal and then hide away. Even for an untrained assassin that would be someone's first instinct, I've seen it in amateurs before.

But it seems Shepard was correct when she told me why she thought he was doing it. She said with such soft pain in her voice: _'Maybe he wants to do something to get your attention? Knowing that he was hired after getting that package by someone on the Citadel...if he gets caught...at least you'd know where he was- think about him, even if only for a moment.'_

It was proven again and again as we chased him. My son was trying to get my attention, and doubted it would matter. His life meant so little to him in the face of my absence he...was willing to ruin it all.

I am ashamed. I am...holding back my emotions through sheer force of will as we stare down my son. My son who is holding a gun to Talid's head.

C-Sec, Bailey and a Turian officer, they walk in after us. Shepard tried to avoid it, but it was inevitable.

She does not point her gun at him, but off to the right of his left shoulder. She fires and the lamp shatters, falling to the ground.

I do not anticipate her movement. She steps fluidly forward as he jerks in surprise and lands a strike across his cheek with the side of her fist, disarming him with her other hand in one move.

He curses and holds his face as Talid limps away. Angry and sullen...and it is my fault.

Shepard sighs, dropping the pistol after unloading the heat sinks and disassembling a few of the pieces. She looks up at Kolyat and crosses her arms, slouching back into a defensive pose. "I'm sorry I had to hit you. I didn't want you to get shot."

He is confused by that, but his anger does not abate. "What does it even matter to you?"

"You're a kid with a gun." She squeezes her hand around her upper arm where it's crossed. "The fact that you are...doing this-" She cuts herself off and searches for words. "I'm sad." Is what she settles on.

"Nobody asked you to be." He snipes, but softly. Still confused, but disarmed. Shepard has a knack for that.

"Your father is...trying to make amends." She stutters at the end, and I realize she does not know if I wish to reveal my condition. If he knows.

"I am dying. Soon." She flinches at my words, but I go on. "I wish to grant you peace before I go."

His brows push together and his lips press harshly into a line. "Grant me peace? Is that what this is?"

"Kolyat." I walk closer, heart aching when my own son tenses as if afraid of me. "I...have only ever added darkness to the galaxy. I am an assassin, and I have always walked darker paths. Your mother's death-" I stop and draw a long breath into my lungs, waiting for the burn of it to pass before speaking. "It was my fault. They killed her to get to me."

The energy of the room changes with my son's surprise and Shepard's movement. She steps into my periphery, staring at me though I can't bring myself to look directly at her.

"I found the men who did it, the trigger men, their ringleaders...I hurt them, eventually killed them." There is a savage pleasure in my son's face for just an instant, something that shouldn't exist in someone so young. Happy to hear of the pain of someone who has done you or someone you love a great injustice. I can't blame him for it, but I _can_ blame myself. "When I came to see you, you were- older. Perhaps I should've stayed."

"I guess it's too bad for me you waited so long, huh?" He is even angrier, if that's possible.

"You are the only bright thing I ever added to the universe, Kolyat. Don't tarnish that." The silent tears that slip down his cheeks are like knives straight to my heart.

My son is so starved for my approval and affection that a simple statement of his importance is enough to bring him to tears. I would allow him to kill me if that would bring him any amount of peace, I feel so low in the face of his disbelief and his...

"Boys, take Kolyat and his father back to the precinct. Find them a private room and leave them alone as long as they need." Bailey offers more courtesy than he should, perhaps. But I am grateful nonetheless.

And so we are shuffled into a cruiser and taken back to C-Sec headquarters.

Shepard decides to go back with Bailey, and I am almost...afraid. To be alone with my own son. The questions he may ask, the answers I may have to give- his anger and my despair. I am afraid he will not forgive me, and that fear clogs my throat with a shard of cold pain.

Once put in the interrogation room, we are left alone and the cameras are even turned off. Though I do not fool myself about the other recording devices.

I take a deep breath, but he speaks before I can.

"Who was she?" He is staring at his hands, glancing up only once or twice to meet my eyes and then look away. "The woman you were with, the Human?"

"You do not recognize Commander Shepard?" I feel a smile tugging at the edge of my mouth. "She is not dead, though she was. It is complicated."

"'Though she was'?" Intrigued and confused, anger somehow gone in this moment. He is making himself vulnerable to me, falling into the old patterns of father and son.

I am struck with it all. My son trying to get my attention, my absolute certainty that he was better off without me, and now...his willingness to try again. Unconscious or otherwise.

"Someone went to great lengths to restore her from death, and they succeeded." I try not to smile at the open awe on his face, but I fail. "I was surprised to learn of it as well. But if anyone were going to survive and be undamaged by the experience of death, it would be her."

"Why did she come?" He is frowning, staring into my eyes now. "Why are you with her?"

It occurs to me that Shepard's usual behavior could be mistaken for something else and a chuckle escapes me before I can stop it. "She is here because I asked her to come. I could have found you myself but with her it was faster, less dangerous and no one had to die. I am with her because she recruited me for a mission. I can't disclose the details, but it is important."

"Like all the other jobs were 'important'?" He is bitter and it is worse than his anger.

I sigh and shake my head, leaning forward to cup my palms and meet his eyes. "No, Kolyat. Important in the way I may save many lives, rather than simply taking them. The jobs were never important, I shouldn't have given you that impression." I sit back in my seat, hands falling to the edges of the table. I don't normally move this much, I am...fidgeting. "Your mother showed me love, and life- but I was unused to it. Didn't know how to cope. I needed to slip back into that life simply to..."

How to explain that I needed to suppress my emotions and my mind just to keep from spiraling into despair? How else to take that other than a slap in the face to his mother and himself?

"Mom's sisters and her mom..." He picks at his fingers, raking his teeth over his bottom lip. It is a habit she and her whole family have. It is painful and comforting at once to see it on him. "They said you probably had some kind of...PTSD. Like, you couldn't-" He breaks off and huffs through his nose. "You couldn't be there for me, because you felt like no one was there for you anymore."

A memory tries to overtake me and I beat it back with pain, digging my fingernails into my palms.

' _You needn't be alone, we are family. Stay with us, stay with Kolyat. Stay.'_ Irikah's mother had pleaded with me as I packed my bags.

Her pleas fell on deaf, vengeful ears. I was foolish and selfish and all I could see was my rage. The last memory I have of my son is his sleeping face, streaked with tears, lying in a bed with two of his aunts cradling him. I did not even say goodbye, not really.

"I don't ask that you excuse my mistakes." I finally say. "I only ask that you allow me the chance to try...again."

He wants to hope, but fears it. It rips me apart inside. "I...don't know."

"I will give you my omni-tool code." I transfer the information before I can think twice, standing and heading for the door. "Think it over."

I leave as the mask settles into place. It protects me from myself, from others, from everything. This cold void of nothingness I can slip into at will.

As soon as I walk out, and lay eyes on Shepard, it shatters.

I pause to gather myself before walking over to her, speaking with Bailey. Perplexed at my sudden weakness and inability to get away from it.

She is speaking with him about Kolyat, and I drift. Until I hear her barter for Kolyat, and see the wink she levels at Bailey.

My son may not even face prison for this. I give Bailey my thanks and follow Shepard back to the Normandy.

I am in a daze until we get back, until I can shut myself off in Life Support.

I slump over the table when I slouch into my usual seat, allowing tears to overcome me and gripping the table's edges until my hands bleed. My son's face keeps flashing before me. Young, younger, as a babe in his mother's arms.

He was pure and untouched. In my refusal to corrupt him with _my_ touch, I created darkness within him.

A ragged gasp escapes me and I pull myself upright, breathing and focused on the rhythm of it until the tears dry up and the sorrow passes.

It will not be gone for long, but for the moment I am...soothed. I wipe my face and fold my hands, meditating to pass the time.

Shepard comes a few hours later, I have to check my clock to see how long it has been.

I allow her entrance with a single flick of the wrist, omni-tool unlocking the door from my seat.

She walks in and sits across from me but does not speak. She is simply there. Simply sitting and waiting and... _there_.

' _This is why she is so precious to them.'_ Because they are precious to _her_. Realizing that I am also counted among the precious to Shepard is- humbling.

"Thank you." I break the silence with gratitude, it is the only thing that seems correct. "My son may not have to pay for this mistake the rest of his life because of you."

"I'd have done it for any kid, you know that." She sighs. "But I'm glad I could help you. I..." She looks away, fidgeting with her hands around one of her knees, drawn up to her chest. "You're so inscrutable I don't know what I can do for you."

I tilt my head and study her expression. She is admitting to the desire to help me, and the inability to do so due to my own reticence. Somehow she sees this as a fault, being unable to see to my needs. It is almost amusing. Endearing, definitely. "I would be happy with some tea and a quiet chat- as we usually indulge in. I am a man of simple pleasures."

She snorts. "Like that's just, enough." She shakes her head and lets it go. "You mentioned your wife before but you never told me...what was she like?"

She is not driven by duty, compassion or pity when she asks. But by simple curiosity. So much of Shepard's nature is tied up in being simply curious.

So I tell her.

I tell her about my first meeting with my wife, the memory I have relived in her presence before, once or twice. I cannot keep a smile off my face as I think of her, as I relate the memories of my stumbling into the bond with the most important woman in my life.

Shepard tries typing something into her omni-tool below the table and jolts when I ask. "What are you doing?"

She tries to close out, but I see before she can. She was looking for the meaning of my wife's name.

She blushes and looks away. "Nothing."

Shepard is often searching for things. The curse words Garrus spits out in the middle of combat, the prayers I say in my native tongue that her translator is not modified to catch, and even the odd phrase in her own language that she hears Jack using.

She does not blush when we catch her on most occasions. She cracks a smile and jokes about 'broadening her horizons'.

Her embarrassment, like everything else about her, is endearing.

' _Interesting.'_

I am still smiling. "I do not know the meaning of her name, though there are many resources on the extra-net for it, I imagine. It shouldn't be hard to 'broaden your horizons' if you search for something based on Kahje."

She is a deeper red, but she is grateful for the excuse. "Yeah, okay."

"I have not spoken of my wife in...I don't think I ever have. Thank you for listening, Siha." It escaped. I did not mean to utter it, though it feels right.

She smiles, the flush spreading down her neck. "I think my translator just glitched, what did you call me?"

Not only a question but an excuse she is offering me. As I offered her one before.

I decide to decline it, what have I to hide? "I called you 'Siha'. Perhaps someday I will tell you what it means."


End file.
